


On a Country Hillside

by Evil_Little_Dog



Series: Little Things [188]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: Alphonse and Edward visit the Risembool cemetery.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 3 October Day!

Someday decades later, two men stand in a cemetery perched atop a hill. Before the men is a pair of marble stones engraved with the names of their parents. The sun plays peekaboo in the autumn clouds overhead, light filtering through clouds to warm the men’s shoulders. 

One of the men is shorter than the other. His long greying hair is pulled into a ponytail and though it’s thinning up top, a cowlick still forces a few strands to stand up above his high widow’s peak. The other man leans on a cane but his spine is still straight. They are easily recognizable as kin from their similar stances, their features, and their easy familiarity with each other; the way their shoulders brushed against each other’s. 

Edward speaks first. “Seems like forever since we’ve been up here together.” 

“I know. It’s been kind of hard to get back here from Xing.” Alphonse smiles, not quite bittersweet. “I guess we’ll be able to make more trips to visit now.” 

“Yeah, I’d bet Mom and the old man’ve missed you.” 

Alphonse takes a hitched step closer, laying his fingers on top of the stone marked with the name ‘Trisha Elric’. “I’m here now.” He glances sideways. “For you too.” 

Waving off the comment, Edward nevertheless smiles in response. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea for you to come back home.” He pauses before adding, “Not that I’m not happy to have you here.” 

Alphonse flings his arm around Edward’s shoulders and squeezes. “I love you too, Brother.” 

“Hey,” Edward says, “don’t rattle my old bones!” His protest goes unheeded and he slides his arm around Alphonse’s ribs, hugging him back. His smile fades somewhat as he stares at the stones in front of him. “If Mom hadn’t died,” he says, the words trailing off.

“If she hadn’t died, Dad still would’ve done what he could to stop the Father.” Alphonse says it firmly. “Maybe he would’ve come back and asked our help.” 

“We wouldn’t have been chosen sacrifices. Wouldn’t have found out all the crap those bastards had planned.” Taking a deep breath, Edward lets it out through his bared teeth. Even after these years, after raising his children, after welcoming his grandchildren into the world, rage still bubbles when he thinks about how much they – Amestris - could’ve lost. 

“And we’re here,” Alphonse reminds, squeezing Edward’s shoulders again. “We’re all still here.” 

Edward narrows his eyes, looking off down the hill, toward the west and Central City. “Not everyone.” 

Alphonse nods. Part of the reason he’d come home lay in that direction. He couldn’t honor Roy Mustang’s passing from Xing. Former President Mustang almost made it to a hundred years. Alphonse wonders if he’ll live that long. From the way his bones ache some days, the way his heart flutters, he’s not sure if he will. He says nothing about it to his brother, who looks every bit of his nearly eighty decades. Automail takes a toll but so does everything they’d ever done in the past. Shaking off the mood, Alphonse takes a deep breath of Risembool air, of the familiar smells of green grass and sheep dung, and he smiles again. “He had a good life.” 

Edward snorts. “Once he got off his ass and proposed to Hawkeye.” 

“I thought she proposed.”

He snorts louder. “All right, so the bastard finally wised up and accepted.” 

“Sort of like you and Winry.” Alphonse can’t help but needle Edward even after all these years. 

“I proposed to her!” Edward gnashes his teeth. 

Alphonse isn’t done yet. “Took you long enough.” 

“Oh yeah? And you didn’t dick around for years with that bean girl?” 

“I had to wait ‘til she was of age!” Alphonse reminds with nary a blush. 

Teeth still showing, Edward cocks an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t stop you from – how many nieces and nephews do I have anyway? I lost count at ten.” 

It’s Alphonse’s turn to growl though he doesn’t have the same reverberation in his chest that Edward does. The sound of it turns Edward’s smirk into an actual smile again and he asks, “Don’t tell me you don’t know how many kids your wife had!”

Alphonse snaps, “I do know! There are twelve!” 

Edward snickers, shaking his head at Alphonse’s indignation. “Yeah, we can’t do anything by halves can we? Your twelve, our eight.” 

Alphonse’s mock anger melts away. “Not my fault twins run in Mei’s family,” he says loftily.

“Nng.” Edward thumps Alphonse’s shoulder. “Speaking of family, we’d better get back before Winry sends out the grandkids to hunt us down.” 

“Can’t have that,” Alphonse agrees. As Edward stomps off down the hill in the direction of home, Alphonse hesitates for a few seconds by the stones. They’ve been well cared for, the grass around them neat, with flowers decorating both Trisha’s and Hohenheim’s graves and three more – the Rockbell family stones, Urey’s, Sara’s, and Pinako’s. Alphonse taps his father’s headstone. “It’s good to see you again, Dad.” 

“You comin’, Al?” Edward shouts up the hill.

“Yeah, right behind you!” Alphonse yells back. It is good to be home, to be here. To know his bones will rest on this hill with his family’s. Alphonse drops his voice to say, “I’ll be back soon.” Turning, he hobbles down the hill, glad of his cane for its support. “Coming, coming,” he says in response to Edward’s waving hand. When he reaches his brother, Alphonse chucks him on the shoulder. “Gonna carry me home?” 

“Too old for that crap,” Edward tells him. “I could call one of the kids if you can’t walk home.” 

“That’s okay.” Alphonse shudders at the idea of riding on one of his grandnephew’s back. “I’m too old for that crap, too.” 

Edward’s laugh rings out loud and clear and after a second, Alphonse’s joins it. 

Overhead, a cloud covers the sun again, diffusing its warmth but the sun makes its way out again. Two old men enjoy their stroll back to their families. They talk about the past, reminisce, speculate on the future. Make plans for their trip to Central City, for the sheep shearing festival in the spring. 

Someday, they will wander back up this hill with mourners behind them. But that is for later. Today, this day, they will celebrate their lives, their families, and each other. 

They already know how quickly things can change.


End file.
